


Always

by WinterAsh



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, PWP, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAsh/pseuds/WinterAsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reuniting of two lost lovers after three years apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bella_Watson_Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Watson_Holmes/gifts).



> ._. this is what I shit out past midnight. Enjoy. I wrote it for Bella.
> 
> -AW

Always

by Ash Winters

Pale fingers threaded through the sandy locks, grasping at the short strands to anchor the older man in place. The blonde let out a little mewl that was cut off by soft lips pressing to his. Lips parted, tongues delved and breaths were stolen as the two held tightly to each other, fear of letting go and losing the other thick between them.

Being without the one you love for three years could do things to a man, and do them they did. Not a day went by when they didn't think about one another, whether busy chasing a criminal or locked in the embrace of a woman he pretended to love. There was a thick sense of danger all around them, but at that moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were reunited at last after three horrifying years of mourning and loss.

Hands slid across clothed bodies, feet stumbled, bodies pushed until John had Sherlock pressed against the wall. He slid his hands up the tall man’s inner thighs, working out a needy gasp as he passed the others arousal and made for the silk shirt that was tucked into black trousers. He pulled it loose, letting his hands slide up under the cool material and onto the heated flesh. Their tongues battled needlessly and soon shirts were shed and trousers unzipped. 

It was unceremonious, it wasn't romantic, it was desperate, oh so very desperate. They needed each other. John guided Sherlock over to the dining table before pushing him gently atop it, shoving the newspaper, magazines and mail onto the floor in his hurry to show Sherlock how much he meant to him. He slid his hands up the bare thighs, not even caring that they were covered in numerous nicotine patches, until he was at the man’s bony knees. Grasping the back of the knees, he gently pushed them to the tall man’s chest and Sherlock held them there, staring down the length of his body at his old friend. His eyes glazed, his cheeks flushed and he panted in need, unabashed at how exposed he was to the others probing eyes. He wrapped his arms around his knees to further expose himself, creating a strange painting of limbs and patches. John could barely contain himself as the other whispered out, “Quickly, John.”

With a quick nod, the blonde reached past Sherlock to grasp at a tube of hand cream. He didn't feel like going into his room to fetch the lube and decided it would do in a pinch. He put a generous amount in his palm and warmed it best he could before teasing the brunette's entrance with his index finger. The preparation was cold and Sherlock felt it pointless, but soon enough the fingers were pulled and replaced with something larger. John leaned forward best he could and captured Sherlock's lips as he pushed in, the two groaning in unison at the long lost feeling of their joined bodies. It was vigorous and sloppy and over far too quickly, but by the end they were sweaty and happy and feeling far more complete than they had in years.


End file.
